


Grape Harvest

by Bethann



Series: An Ancient Grudge-An AU of Legendary Friendship [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adopted Children, Coming of Age, Domestic Discipline, Drinking, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Spanking, Tol Eressëa, non sexual spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-13 19:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17493512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann
Summary: Legolas and Gimli visit New Imladris for the grape harvest festival, along with some members of the household.  A lovesick Gaeraon gets himself and Legolas both in hot water.





	1. Legolas pov

**Author's Note:**

> This is a light hearted interlude between the angsty stories in the "An Ancient Grudge" series. I hope you enjoy!

It has been almost a sennight since I finally admitted to Gimli what was at the heart of my unease with regard to Dagnir. With his strength and loving support I have finally begun to put much of what happened behind me. The night terrors have ceased and the insidious voice inside my mind if not wholly silenced is certainly more subdued.

Now, as I look out into the garden where Gaearon and Aerlinn are working I feel a sense of peace and well-being envelop me. My guardian is off discussing walls and roofing with Edelharn and I am reading over the lists of provisions that are in the process of being stored for the winter to come.

We have made good progress this summer and now are able to be almost entirely self-sufficient as far as food is concerned. Mistress Glasiel and Mistress Elanor have been busy preserving fruits and vegetables, meat and fish has been cured and salted and even in the coldest of winters I do not fear that I will be unable to provide game should it be necessary.

Canthui has stored wheels of hard cheeses in the dairy and we will continue to have a plentiful supply of eggs, milk, and butter through the winter for the barns have sufficient space for the cattle, hens and goats.

Hwiniol and Forodren have the feed barns filled with hay and bedding for the stock animals and our horses so everything is well in train for the cold months ahead. Fimbrethil says he does not expect the winter to be as severe as last year but we will no doubt have periods of isolation when the weather brings snow.

I pick up the final list of supplies and laugh softly as I read down the list. The apple presses have been in use and barrels of cider are now in the cellars and I note that Hwiniol and Forodren have also ensured that there will be no shortage of beer either. Gimli will be very heartened by that news.

I turn back to where Fimbrethil stands waiting for my verdict on our readiness for winter. To be honest I am really reliant upon his expertise rather than my own knowledge.

“Do Mistress Glasiel and Canthui have all they need for household goods, cloth and so on?”

“Canthui ordered the extra bolts of woolen cloth as you instructed to make winter cloaks for everyone. There is fur for linings and we have leather for boot making in the tanning sheds. With the last of the harvest now in, I believe we are as prepared as we can be. From what Edelharn told me, he and Lord Gimli even hope to have the whole house, roofed and weather proofed by the end of the autumn, which will allow them to work inside in the winter should they wish to.”

I share a grin with my head of household because both of us are aware that Gimli and Edelharn would indeed want to work on the inside of the East wing during the long months ahead. Edelharn had been invited to spend the winter with us and has eagerly accepted. They will no doubt spend many happy hours together poring over plans and working on figures and measurements, which are pretty much incomprehensible to the rest of us.

“Then all seems to be in hand, and all that remains is for me to thank everyone for all their hard work,”

I am about to add something more about us having some sort of feast to mark our successful harvest when we are interrupted by a knock on the door and Hwiniol enters carrying a letter.

“One of the grooms brought this over from New Imladris Lord Legolas.”

He hands it over and he and Fimbrethil take their leave, leaving me to read Lord Elrond’s letter in peace.  
   
Elrond asks after my welfare and that of Gimli but the real reason for the missive is to invite us and any members of our small household who might wish to join us to take part in the wine harvest which is about to take place.  
   
‘I know you have spoken with Erestor about setting up your own vineyards, Legolas, so thought you might welcome this opportunity to see the process of harvesting and pressing the grapes and of course there will be a celebration at the end of the harvest to which you are all invited.’  
   
I do indeed harbor hopes of growing grapes and producing our own wine here in the valley in the years ahead and would dearly love to go and take part in the harvest. Wine making is something I have little experience with and would like to know more about. I sit at my desk and pull a piece of parchment towards me intent on answering the letter immediately; then I put down my quill.  
   
Given what has happened with Dagnir, I doubt that Gimli will allow me to travel to New Imladris without him, for I know he is still anxious about my ‘state of health’.  
   
But I also know that he has had to postpone and curtail his work on the house because of the time he has spent supporting me, both here and at the council meetings. I will not take him away from his beloved building work again this year.

I put the letter to one side. I will write tomorrow and decline the invitation. My dwarf has made far too many sacrifices for me; it will do no harm to make this small one for him.  
   
I do not see my guardian until dinner which we take in the dining room as Mistress Glasiel likes us to do and we spend most of the meal talking over what he and Edelharn have been doing and their plans for the next few weeks.

“If we can just get the roof on before the end of the month,” Gimli tells me, “it will mean the house is weatherproofed for the winter. Then I can make a start on the internal walls, aye and ye can start thinking about paneling and the designs ye want. It should keep us busy right through to the spring.”

He gives me one of his searching looks, “and how have ye spent your day,? I saw Fimbrethil coming in with a stack of papers and his ledgers? Did he keep ye in all day long?”

“For much of it I am afraid,” I laugh, “But we are agreed that we are well prepared for the winter, the still rooms are full to bursting as are the barns and storage sheds. I am so proud of what we have been able to achieve in such a short time Gimli. You have worked miracles and we have been fortunate indeed in the members of our household.”

“Aye, we have indeed Laddie, but do not forget to take into account your efforts as well.” He tells me making me blush with pleasure at the warmth in his voice. I know Gimli is proud of what has been achieved but I still like to hear him say it.

I go over to the open window, for the night is warm, although the threatened storms of the last few weeks have as yet not materialized.

Gimli comes to stand beside me, his pipe in hand.

“Hwiniol told me that a groom rode over from New Imladris . I hope all is well there?”

“Yes indeed,” I answer and change the subject, not wanting to mention the grape harvest.

We go on to talk of many things before we both retire for the night and in the flurry of morning activities I forget all about the invitation and go off with Gaearon to weave some willow wands together to make temporary wind breaks in the vegetable garden.

We go back to the house for the noon meal and I find Gimli already sitting in the kitchen deep in conversation with Fimbrethil and Mistress Glasiel. They break off when I enter which makes me wonder if I am the subject of their discussion. I cast a sideways glance in Gimli’s direction but he says nothing, merely encouraging me to hurry to wash ready for the meal.  
   
Most of the talk at the table is about the harvest and how things are going. Aerlinn is chattering on about drying herbs, flower heads and leaves while Glasiel and Elanor are discussing the rival methods of pickling walnuts. All seems as it should but I feel uneasy and when I look up I find Gimli’s eyes upon me. He does not seem angry but rather puzzled, though evidently not willing to talk of what is on his mind yet. I am not surprised when as the table is cleared he asks me to accompany him into my study. He says it is to talk over some plans he and Edelharn have drawn up but I know better.  
   
I enter the study in his wake, and take up a position as far away from Gimli as I can, just to be on the safe side while he goes to my desk and seats himself behind it.

“I came in here this morning Lamb,” he begins, “I wanted some parchment to make a note of something before it went out of my head and I picked up this.”  
   
I see he is holding the letter from Lord Elrond, and despite not being in the wrong really I cannot help but squirm.  
   
“I did say Elrond had written.” I defend myself.

“Aye so ye did. Ye did not mention the invitation however. Why?”

“I thought we had enough to do here and that we could have our own harvest celebration.”

Gimli sits back and steeples his fingers together frowning down at them rather than at me.

“That is true enough, but Elrond also asked if you would like to see how the grape harvest is made into wine, and I know you are interested in growing your own vines for when your Ada comes home. So why turn down such an opportunity?”

I avoid his glance, “Lamb?”

This time the tone is such that I know I have to answer and quickly, “It will be another few years before I can even contemplate growing vines. I can easily attend next year and… well we have been away from home a great deal lately and there are things that need doing here.”

“Away from home? What has that to do with it?” his brow creases and then he frowns “Are you telling me that you have turned down this invitation from some misguided sense of guilt over the days we spent in Avallónë dealing with that cur Dagnir?”

“You have lost so many days of work recently having to nursemaid me … I know you do not begrudge me the time, Gimli …” I hurry to add, “but I would not ask you to waste more days when I know you wish to see the roof finished before the weather turns.”

“Elfling there are times when ye still manage to amaze me,” he grumbles shaking his head, “Did it not occur to ye that I might wish to go? Or that some of our household might like an opportunity to spend time with their friends.”

“I did not realize…I mean…I meant it for the best, truly I did …” I stutter.

“That I do not doubt, you foolish child. As if I would want to deny you such a treat, even if it had put the work on the roof back a few more days, which it would not have done, since Master Edelharn could have supervised what needed to be done in my absence. Think on! A few days in the autumn sun watching the grapes being pressed, would have done us all good.”

Relief fills me as I realize that I can easily make things right, “I have not replied yet” I confess, “I meant to do it this morning but I forgot. We could still go, if you still wish us to of course?”

Gimli beams at me, even forgoing a scold for my tardiness and bad manners at not responding to Lord Elrond’s letter immediately.

“Well then you had best sit down and answer that we will be delighted to take up his offer right now.”

He pushes me into the chair he has just risen from.

“And mind you write in your best hand! None of that scrawl! And do not forget to ask after the Lady Celebrian either,” he continues his orders even as I pull a piece of parchment towards me and dip the quill into the ink stand.

“I have not had the chance to observe the way wine is made by you elves, but knowing the way you tend to cling to old fashioned traditions I do not doubt I will be able to come up with some new techniques and machinery that will improve the process. That apple press that Forodren was going to use for the cider was downright ancient.”

Seeing Gimli is already happily planning how he can bring the elves of New Imladris into the Fourth Age I hurry to write an acceptance note. I will send Hwiniol off with it first thing in the morning and then all we have to do is look forward to our vacation amongst the vines in the hills behind New Imladris. I can hardly wait …  
 


	2. Gimli's pov

   
   
As the noon meal begins, I sit listening to the happy chatter about the success of this year’s harvest, but just at the moment I do not join in.  It is not because I am not as excited as everyone else, but rather because I am trying to puzzle out why my elf is still behaving oddly.  It is true that the last couple of months have been a trial to say the least, but since Legolas finally confided in me about his true concerns and worries, things have begun to return to normal.  He has been able to sleep peacefully through the nights and has seemed altogether more relaxed and content.  
   
And yet there has to be a reason for his not telling me about the invitation we received from New Imladris. Oh he told me about the correspondence, but left out the important detail of the grape harvest festival, which of course has me concerned considering he normally would be keen to attend such an event.  What has made the difference, I do not know.  Is he not yet up to spending time with crowds of folks?  Does he not feel like celebrating the end of this season after all he has been through?  Does he believe I do not wish to attend and has declined for my sake?  If I live for another thousand years I do not think I will ever be able to completely understand what is in that child’s mind. There is nothing else for it but to just ask him if I want an answer to this puzzle and I do indeed wish for an answer, for I am through with waiting around for him to express himself.  That method did not work out as well as I had hoped before, so I will use a more direct approach in this case.  
   
As soon as the dishes are being cleared away, I ask my elfling to attend me in his study.  He does so without hesitation, but I notice he stands as far back from me as possible, a sure sign that he is feeling a little bit unsure of the situation he finds himself in. Very likely he is uneasy over having purposely hidden information from me. Even though it was not exactly wrong for him to do so, I can see he wonders if I will think otherwise.  My thoughts are proved correct when he shifts from one foot to the other when he sees the letter in my hand and immediately begins defending his actions.  
   
“I did say Elrond had written.” He points out immediately as if I have accused him of something.  I do not deny that.  What I wish to know is why he did not mention the invitation and so I ask him, and then the truth comes out.  It seems that he feels he has taken enough of my time already this year with all the trouble Dagnir caused us and did not wish to interrupt my work schedule knowing how I longed to get the rest of the house under roof before cold weather sets in.  As if I would want him to miss such an enjoyable event just so we could get the work done a few days sooner.  It is true that I’ve lost several days’ work over the mess with Dagnir and the counsel meeting, but what am I here for if not to offer support?    
   
Fortunately the situation is easy to remedy.  All I need to do is tell my elf that I wish to go to New Imladris myself and he is anxious enough to write that we would love to accept the invitation.  So it is settled.  Now all we need to do is prepare for the trip and find out who wishes to come along.  Some will be needed at home of course, but we can always work it out that different ones can exchange places midweek so that all can attend at least part of the time.  I am sure Legolas would like Gaearon to come along as they have become quite close over their time working together in the gardens.   
   
 Gaearon is one of the first friends near my elf’s own age who will not outpace him in maturity as his mortal friends all did in time.  It is something I have long wished for, for my lad to have the opportunity to experience enjoying having fun and getting into mischief with friends of his own age group. He has seen enough of war, and death and serous matters and now he has the time to finally enjoy his youth.  Even young Aerlinn has become a friend in spite of the fact that he has never been comfortable around females, especially young ones.  It helps that she has proven that she is merely interested in the garden and not in him, though of late she has also shown to be interested in Gaearon as well.  Both Aerlinn and Gaearon are just almost at their majority, so I guess it is considered acceptable for them to be playing at courting, though both are rather young to form a bond I am given to understand.  For folks who live forever and bond for life, I suppose it is of the utmost importance to be very, very careful about making the correct choice in a mate.  Forever is a long time to be stuck with someone who you do not get along with!  Because of this, parents and guardians must be extra diligent with their young and oftentimes careless offspring.   Raging hormones and making permanent life choices do not always go hand in hand, so it only makes sense that more sensible heads must prevail, and those in charge must make and enforce strict rules about such things.  
   
Unfortunately it is just this issue that throws a little wrench in our plans.  While Aerlinn and Gaearon would like to attend and have the time to do so, unfortunately Master Forodren and Mistress Glasiel do not, and neither are keen to allow their charges out of their sight just at the moment.  It seems that there was some issue with the two of them being caught unsupervised together in one of the greenhouses and evidently they weren’t potting plants or planting seeds as they should have been.  I do not know exactly what took place, but I do know that neither have been allowed in the gardens unless a third person was there to keep them out of trouble.   
   
 I wonder how many times my elfling has had to unwittingly play chaperone to those two and if he has realized it or not.  His presence alone should be enough to dissuade them considering he is technically their employer, and not overly quiet about his feelings on such things besides.  Since his run in with Melethril, he has attempted to stay severely away from anything that has to do with romantic gestures or anything that pertains to what goes on between males and females, though I am sure that could change upon meeting some of the pretty maidens that are likely to be at the celebration, which is something I suppose we should discuss ahead of time.  I am sure that will be another interesting conversation, but that is for later.  For now I need to concentrate on how to get Forodren and Glasiel to soften their view and let the younglings come along, for a lot of the fun will be taken out of it for my own elfling if his friends are not there with us.  Why should he miss out just because those two cannot be trusted alone together?    
   
The solution is simple enough. Master Forodren will not budge and go with us, for we have a mare in foal, which is  a rare thing for this time of year.  Because of the cooler nights, Forodren feels he must be about when the foal comes, for it will need more care than a foal born in the spring.   
   
“Leaving at this time is impossible, Lord Gimli,” he tells me, when Legolas and I find out way out to the stable to persuade him to change his mind.  
   
“I understand completely, Master Forodren,” I say, “but if you could spare your son for a few days, I am sure the lad would enjoy the event.”  
   
Forodren frowns toward his son, who is flushing under his father’s critical eye, though he tries to appear to be caught up in pitching more hay into the stalls.  
   
“I am afraid that is impossible as well,” he says, “I am not keen to let him out of my sight just at the moment, at least until he has proven he can be trusted on his own.”   
   
The last bit is said a little louder than the first, just in case Gaearon might miss his father’s saying this.  He is intent, it seems, on teaching the lad a memorable lesson in proper decorum.  Of course it is his right and indeed his duty to do so and I do not wish to interfere with Forodren’s methods, but when Legolas catches my eye and give me an imploring look, I cannot help but make another attempt at a solution.  
   
As it turns out it is easier than I expected it to be.  
   
“Again I understand, and you are right to do so, Master Forodren. However what would ye say to giving the lad into my hands for a few days?  I do have some experience with young elves, and I am certain Gaearon would not cause me any trouble.  That is the case is it not, laddie?”    
   
I direct the last to Gaearon who has given up pretending to work and has come close enough to hear our discussion.  Forodren rubs his chin in thought for a moment and then nods his head and gestures for his son to come to his side.  
   
“If I agree to this thing,  you will answer to Lord Gimli and listen to his direction just as if it were me giving it.  Is that clear?”  
   
“Yes Adar,”  Gaearon says solemnly, though I notice he makes brief eye contact with Legolas, who seems to be holding his breath for his friend.    
   
“Then I shall think about it, and will let you know tomorrow.”  Forodren says.  
   
“That seems fair,  Master Forodren,” I agree, and Gaearon only nods, but I can see very well by his smile as he turns away, that he knows the question has already been settled in his favor.  Legolas must think so as well, for after we walk out of the stable he gives me a spontaneous kiss on the cheek and thanks me for speaking up in his friend’s behalf.    
   
“You always know exactly how to give me what I want, Elvellon. I couldn’t ask for a better friend and substitute parent.”  
   
“Twas nothing, Lamb,” I say brushing off his compliment and looking away.  Still I cannot help smiling at the sweet words and flushing in pleasure and embarrassment.  He laughs at me.    
“It is true, Gimli. You are the best.  Thank you!”    
   
“Now you’re just yammering on to hear your brain rattle, if there is indeed enough in there to rattle,”  I tease, to try to get him to reply in kind and change the topic, but he only laughs louder and grabs at my hand.  
   
“Come, Gimli.  Let’s go talk to Mistress Glasiel.”  
   
Mistress Glasiel is a little harder to win over as I expected, for she is not one to put up with any nonsense from her beloved niece, but once Mistress Elanor steps in and promises to keep a close watch on the girl herself to help me out, she finally relents and agrees with Aerlinn going along.  
   
“But no funny business, Miss,” she scolds as if Aerlinn has already done something wrong.  “And I won’t have you seen sitting next to that boy and mooning over him on the ride over either.  I will remind you that you are not betrothed to him, and I expect nothing but exemplary conduct from you.  And I will ask for a full report from Mistress Elanor upon your return, so think on.”  
   
After we leave the scene, I tease Legolas by telling him that he will have to sit between Gaearon and Aerlinn on the ride to New Imladris, but he only smiles at me, triumphantly.  
   
“That will be your job, Master Dwarf,” he informs me,  “You are the one in charge here.  And besides, I intend to ride!”  
   
It is lovely to share a laugh with my elfling after all the tears and pain of the last few weeks.  Already this grape harvest celebration has done us good, and I for one am looking forward to more.    
 


	3. Legolas pov

I am so happy; Gimli has said he wishes to attend the grape harvest and the celebration that will follow on at the end of the grape picking. I do not believe it is for his benefit he has said this, for I know him well enough to know he would sooner be here working on our home but he has pronounced he wishes to go to New Imladris and I know well enough that however much I protest he will insist that we go. What is more he will make the pretense that it is for his benefit we attend even though we both know it is entirely on my account that we will do so.  
   
And since he wishes it I am not going to argue. What is more since Gimli has announced he intends to go to the wine festival and that any of our staff who wish to attend are welcome to do so I doubt any of our household will object either.

I had anticipated that Fimbrethil and Mistress Glasiel would refuse Elrond’s invitation and that Canthui and Hwiniol would be not be tempted to attend, they all prefer a quiet life and a wine harvest will be anything but quiet.

I did think that Forodren might choose to accompany us since Gaearon like myself I am certain would be anxious to go and his Ada is not at all keen on letting his son out of his sight since our misadventure with the bees.

But when I went with Gimli to ask about it Forodren said he would not leave his horses which would have meant Gaearon not being able to attend either, but Gimli’s persuasive powers worked their magic and eventually Forodren agreed to his son going under the aegis of his dwarven lord.   
   
   
Aerlinn was also given permission to attend as long as she listened not only to Gimli but also to Mistress Elanor who had expressed a desire to go with us. Mistress Elanor enjoys new experiences and is rarely put out of countenance by what is happening around her. Gimli says that it is because she is the mother of a large family and has probably seen and dealt with any and all kinds of domestic catastrophes in her life. Whatever the reason I am glad to have her with us for then Gaearon and I will be less likely to have Aerlinn tagging along with us, although Gaearon seems less irritated by her presence than I am. In fact I am beginning to wonder if he is becoming interested in her.

I wrinkle my nose at the thought of having them billing and cooing all the time we are in New Imladris and just hope that there will be so many entertainments and activities that Gaearon will not feel he has to spend all his time with Aerlinn.  
   
For now I am just looking forward to trying out some new experiences and maybe learning more about vines and wine making.  
   
   
Finally after what seems to me to be unnecessary delays and fussing we are on our way to New Imladris.

Gimli and I have decided to ride, while Gaearon, Aerlinn, and Mistress Elanor ride in the wagon, a wagon which is decorated with the sigils of both me and Gimli and our new joint sigil for Car Annûn making it very cheerful. It is also piled high with all the things Glasiel and Fimbrethil believe are necessities for our journey. From the amount of baggage anyone would think we were going to be away for six months or more rather than a week. I did question the need for all of the food. But Mistress Glasiel made it plain that it was usual for those going to help a neighbor or friend at harvest or with any major task to take with them food and drink that would supplement the food on offer and help to ease the burden on those caring for this influx of visitors and workers. And since she is far more aware of what is accepted practice on the island I withdrew my objections for as Gimli pointed out it would look very poor if we were the only ones not to offer support after so many had helped us when we first arrived.

Still I rather think he was influenced by the fact that Hwiniol had just placed two barrels of his favourite beer into the wagon telling Gimli that he did not wish him to suffer from thirst if only freshly pressed wine was on offer!  
   
Despite all of this we are finally on our way taking the road out of the valley and as we reach the rise both Gimli and I look back at our almost completed house nestling below us and I experience quite a pang of regret over leaving what has now become truly my home.  
   
Gimli leans over and pats my hand, “it will all still be there when we get back Lamb.”  
   
I give myself a shake and nod, urging my horse forward. Gimli as ever is right and there is much to look forward to ahead of us.

The weather remains warm and dry. The humidity that plagued us a few weeks ago has abated, and the days are bright and sunny perfect conditions for harvesting the grapes. The nights however are increasingly cool. I was concerned for Gimli, for most of the folk attending the harvest will sleep outside or in raised silk pavilions, fine for elves but my dwarf needs warmth and comfort at night although he would never admit to it. However Erestor wrote to say the rooms that we occupied when first we came to Tol Eressëa were being prepared for us so all is well and I am happy to sacrifice a few nights under the stars by staying indoors with Gimli. His comfort must come first for he has sacrificed so much for me.  
   
As we take the road that will lead us to the vale where the New Homely House stands we are joined by elves from many parts of the island. There is laughter and song and greetings amongst friends and acquaintances and it pleases me that many come to speak with me and Gimli and to make us welcome. We make quite a merry cavalcade as our wagons and horses stream towards the domed spires of New Imladris where the sigil of Lord Elrond flies proudly.  
   
Erestor stands in the courtyard happily directing the new arrivals to where they can put up their tents and pavilions and as he sees us he hurries over.

“Lord Gimli, Legolas, welcome, welcome, come in I know Elrond and the Lady Celebrian will be happy to see you. Go on in both of you. There are grooms in plenty to care for your horses and I am sure that Gaearon here will bring up your baggage once they are settled.”  
   
Erestor shoos us inside where Lord Elrond and his lady are greeting the guests who will be staying in the house.  
   
There is to be no formality it seems. Many of the meals will be eaten al fresco and it will not be until all the grapes are in that a full feast of thanks will be held. That suits me and Gimli and I find myself looking forward to the next few days very much.  
   
When we meet up at the evening meal Erestor offers to show Gimli and me around and to explain the process of wine making and I am keen to take him up on the offer but first we ride up to the vineyards to watch the harvesting of the grapes. As we travel Erestor tells us how the vintners know it is time to harvest the crop and how important it is to get it right.

On arrival I watch the workers picking the grapes. They use special sheers to prevent damage, and it is fascinating to see how quickly they work. I spot Gaearon working and he waves to me and points out where Aerlinn is also at work picking the grape bunches. I do not see Mistress Elanor but I suspect she is back at the house helping to prepare food for everyone and she is no doubt enjoying every moment of it.  
   
Erestor explains the colour changes to look for in the grape variety and also how to test by taste for sweetness. I ask for an opportunity to help out on the vines and Gimli and Ressor wave me away and I hurry off to join Gaearon.

It is hard work, harder than I had anticipated and the heat of the sun on my neck and back soon make me wish I had thought to wear a hat like most of the others. I am just beginning to tire when Gimli arrives to carry me off to the house. I do not know how he does it but he seems to be able to read me far more easily than any other and he refuses to listen when I tell him I am happy to stay for the rest of the day.  
   
“Ye have done enough” he grumbles at me, “I’ll not have you catching sun stroke just to prove you can work as hard as any other. You are not as accustomed to this kind of labor and need a rest.”  
   
I open my mouth to argue, see Gimli’s expression and close it again. I have no desire to be dragged out of the vineyard by my ear and the truth is my back is aching, and despite being careful, my fingers are stained with grape juice and there are blisters appearing where I have used the sheers.  
   
Erestor has brought a light luncheon for us and we sit in the shade of a whitewashed wall on the edge of the vineyard and I learn more about the process of wine making, listening in as Gimli and Erestor argue over the length of time needed for proper fermentation, which turns the grape juice into alcohol.

He also tells us more of how the next few days will go; the first grapes will be pressed tomorrow and should be ready for drinking by the time the last of the vines are stripped of their fruit.

“That is when we will have the feast. We will taste the new wines and celebrate the end of the harvest for the year.” Erestor explains, “Of course that will not stop some of the workers from holding their own ‘ unofficial tastings’ before then and from indulging in all kinds of foolishness, but then it is the wine harvest and if we cannot enjoy ourselves at this season when can we do so.”  
   
My ears prick up on hearing this, and I promise myself that I will speak to Gaearon tomorrow morning to make sure that if he is asked to join in with any of these ‘unofficial tastings’ he includes me in the invitation. It sounds like the sort of evening I would very much enjoy.  
   
After luncheon I follow Gimli down to where the giant wooden vats are situated. Grapes are being tipped into them and several elves are already moving steadily round the vat their feet gently pressing the juices out of the skins. As they move they sing and I see that Aerlinn is in one of the vats her hair pinned up high on her head, her skirts kilted up to the knees. She is laughing and singing, her arms linked with two other ellith and obviously enjoying herself and several ellyn are giving the maidens more than a little attention as they sway and move to and fro. It is, I have to admit ,very hypnotic. Too hypnotic I am afraid for it is some moments before I realize that Gimli and Erestor are waiting for me to join them and both of them are wearing very knowing expressions. Despite every effort I find myself blushing as I cross the yard to join them as they enter the sheds where the juices are strained from the vats and left to ferment.

  
This is going to be a very interesting few days I decide as I try to ignore their laughter and avoid looking back at the ellith in the grape vats.

 

 

 


	4. Gimli's pov

  
So far the day has been a resounding success. The weather has been perfect and the private tour of the vineyards that Lord Erestor has provided us with interesting and educational and to top it off I can see that everyone is having a grand time. Most especially the young ellyn who seem to be enjoying the sight of the pretty young girls with their long skirts hiked up above their knees. More than a few of them are watching with admiration, for they do make a pretty picture moving in rhythm of their singing. Besides there aren’t many occasions where it is considered proper for young ladies to go about with bare legs showing. So I can hardly blame the lads for taking advantage of the situation and gawping a bit.

I notice that Aerlinn is among the ellith who are treading the grapes, and in my admittedly biased opinion, she is the prettiest one in the crowd. I can see that others feel similarly, for there is more than one who leaps forward to offer her a hand when she slips a bit on the slippery fruit and momentarily loses her balance. She giggles self-consciously and grasps the nearest hand and then links her arms once again with the other two ellith who are sharing the vat with her. I also happen to notice that Gaearon, who is standing with the other lads, frowns when it is not his hand she reaches for. There is nothing official between them at this point, but it is plain by his expression that he might hope there soon will be.

Aerlinn doesn’t seem to notice this, but is very soon swaying and singing with her friends again. It is a rather mesmerizing sight if we are to judge by the number of eyes upon them, and even my own elfling can’t seem to look away even when I clear my throat meaningfully to let him know we are waiting for him to join us. I share a look with Erestor and neither of us can help laughing when he finally realizes he is staring with his jaw almost on the ground.

He says nothing at all, but is still blushing when we enter into the sheds where the juices are strained into the barrels for fermentation. I cannot resist teasing him a little of course

“Wine making is even more interesting than ye first believed is it not Lamb?” I ask him. He attempts to glare at me, but it comes across as more mortified than angry so I just chuckle again and let it go for now.

Still as we listen to Erestor describe the process of shifting the juice to the barrels to await bottling, I start to feel a little uncomfortable with the undeniable fact that Legolas has entered a new stage of life. At home it is easy to forget this since the number of younger females is very limited, but in a crowd like are here in New Imladris they will likely be coming out of the woodwork to get a chance to get to know my lad. Even just a year ago that wouldn’t have concerned me much other than to wish to protect him from unwanted attention, but now things look a bit different. Even though he now swears he has no interest in getting involved with the opposite sex, I well know that things can easily get out of hand, especially when wine and a celebratory atmosphere are combined.

As uncomfortable as the topic is, I feel that perhaps there needs to be a reminder of what sort of behavior is expected while we are here. I know the lad knows from long practice how to comport himself at a social event including how to behave around the fairer sex, but he still has very little experience with how to deal with his own changing feelings and reactions to them as could be easily seen by his response to the girls in the grape vats. Not that he was the only one staring, but after the close call with that tramp Melethril this past summer we cannot be too cautious.

For now we head back outside to where Aerlinn and her companions have left the vats and are busy washing the sticky grape juice. I notice that the same young ellon who offered Aerlinn his hand earlier now hurries forward to hand her a towel and assist her with her shoes. I am just about to intervene for I know Mistress Glasiel would never approve of his bold behavior toward her niece, when Mistress Elanor beats me to it. Thanking the eager lad quite coolly, she takes the towel from him and kneels in front of Aerlinn to help her scrub away the stains from her feet and legs while also effectively placing herself between them. Aerlinn only shrugs and flashes a dimpled smile in her admirer’s direction making him beam with pleasure before moving on.

In contrast Gaearon’s expression looks rather like a thundercloud, though for all intents and purposes he appears to be deeply involved in a serious discussion with a small group of acquaintances. No doubt he is ignoring Aerlinn with a vengeance to prove the point that he is not the least bit affected by the attention being heaped upon her. Clearly he believes that showing her he cares will make him appear weak or less masculine and therefore more appealing.

The politics of love are a complicated thing among young elves, or so it seems to me.

At dusk the last of the workers come in from the field and an evening meal is served outside. Afterwards folks begin retiring for the evening, or at least that is what is meant to happen. There are several long hot days of work ahead and the official celebration feast will take place after the harvest has been brought in. But I am reminded of Erestor’s words about ‘unofficial’ tasting that might take place a bit earlier and I am quite sure that there will be many folks about after the sun sets who will begin the celebrations early.   
  
As a lad I was just as able as anyone to celebrate all night and still work the next day, but those days are in the past and I am more interested in enjoying a quiet night after the long day we’ve had already. So I find Gaearon in the crowd and let him know that he should collect his things and come to the rooms that have been prepared for Legolas and me. He looks surprised, for no doubt he expected to be staying in the tents that have been erected for visitors, but having promised Master Forodren to keep an eye on his son, I have every intention of doing so. Master Forodren is a fine horse master and a good friend and I would not like to break his trust in me. I can hardly keep an eye on Gaearon if he is nowhere near me, so the solution is to move him in with us, whether he is entirely comfortable with it or not. Even though he seems surprised, he only politely agrees and promises to meet us shortly in our chambers.

While he is doing so, Legolas follows me dutifully to the rooms we used to share when we first arrived in the West. It is a bittersweet feeling to stay here for this is where we spent many difficult days and nights as my elfling fought to recover his health after his long struggle with the sea longing. At the same time, it was a time of joy and relief, for finally I knew there was real hope that he would get well, though he despaired of ever feeling at home and fitting in with the elves here in the undying lands.

I smile now as I notice him longingly watching the milling crowds. I can see that he would like a chance to join in on some of the unofficial celebrating that will be done tonight, but is refusing to say so for my sake. I am pleased that he now feels so comfortable and happy with the folks here. It has taken a relatively short time for him to adjust and I know as the years pass things will only improve in spite of setbacks that have recently come our way.

As we enter the familiar chambers, I see that someone has brought in our luggage and unpacked it for us and set a small fire in the fireplace. Legolas goes immediately to the window to watch the crowds below as I sit down in the large chair and feel around for the pipe in my pocket. Eventually he sighs and comes to sit at my feet.

“It has been a wonderful day, hasn’t it Elvellon?” he says smiling up at me.

“Indeed it has, Lamb, though I daresay you might like it to continue on a bit longer,” I observe, “Isn’t it so?”

I can see he is about to deny this, but when I raise an eyebrow he tells me instead, “I wouldn’t mind, but it isn’t that important.”

“We could go back down you know.”

“It’s all right, Gimli. It’s already been a long day.”

I know he means it has already been a long day for an ancient dwarf, though he is far too polite to say so. He also knows I am not keen to send him off on his own, so he doesn’t even make the request, but I have an idea.

“ Gaearon is likely to be itching to take part in the evening celebrations as well,” I remind him. “The two of you could probably get along without me I would imagine.”

He brightens at that suggestion. “Really? Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind, Laddie. I want you to get the chance to have some fun,” I chuckle, but then add, “That is if you promise to stay out of mischief.”

“I swear it,” he tells me looking as if he’d never dream of such a thing, which strikes me as very funny. I laugh and tweak his braid and then laugh again when he attempts to look offended. He can’t manage it, so ends up laughing with me as we wait for Gaearon to join us.

When he arrives a few minutes later, he seems just as pleased with the idea, but before they go I have a few reminders for them. Looking at each one in turn, I say seriously, “You are to stay together the whole evening, and watch out for one another.” Both nod in agreement though I can see they are having trouble waiting for me to finish speaking in their hurry to be gone, but I have a few more things to say first.

“Also you are not to overindulge in too much drink and you are to watch the time and be back here at a decent hour, for we do have to be up early tomorrow. We are here not just to celebrate, but also to work, and you owe it to our host to be in top form tomorrow. I warn you, you won’t like it if I have to go out looking for you,” I frown to show the seriousness of my words.

The listen attentively and patiently, but Legolas gives his thoughts away by glancing at the door, proving he is anxious to be away. I hide a smile at that, but I have one more thing to say before I set them free.

“Another thing for you to remember, lads, is when it come to girls looking is one thing, but touching is quite another. And being caught alone with a girl is a fast way to find yourself tethered to a dwarf for the rest of the visit! Is that quite plain?”

Both flush and laugh self consciously, but hurry to agree to my terms.

“Very good! Hurry along then and enjoy yourselves”

The words have barely passed my lips before the door is closing behind them and they are on their way.

 


	5. Legolas pov

  
I take Gimli at his word and hurry off in Gaearon’s wake both of us already looking forward to the night ahead.

It is easy to see where to go as small groups of young elves are making their way up into the far corners of the grounds that surround the New Homely House. The noise of the river and waterfalls greet us as do the sounds of fair voices raised in song and laughter.

This will be my first real opportunity to take part in the sort of activities that young elves normally indulge in at this time of the year and I am curious as to see exactly what will be taking place but perhaps not as anxious as Gaearon is to see where Aerlinn might be. He has been muttering and grumbling most of the afternoon about her ‘flightiness’ since our arrival in New Imladris. I find it quite amusing to see him glowering and scowling because other ellon are taking an interest in her, after all he has been taking an ever increasing interest in her himself.

As it is we soon come to the river bank and see both ellon and ellyth sitting beneath the trees, wine skins are being passed around but I suspect that the wine inside is not this years but from an earlier vintage. There are some games of chance being played as well as music and an exchange of news and gossip, for it is plain that most of the folk here are well acquainted one with the other. Someone spots Gaearon as he steps out of the darkness and calls him over to join them, but as they see me their smiles of welcome falter somewhat and they scramble to their feet and bow.  
The elves in the other groups look to see what is happening and then also rise to make their obeisance to a visiting lord.

It is the very thing I hate most and had almost forgotten about since my arrival on Tol Eressëa for I have spent most of my time in Car Annûn where such distinctions have been laid aside. I can see that Gaearon is also surprised and I fear embarrassed by our reception. I smile and plead for everyone to return to their former activities and to forget who I am or even that I am here at all, but once the damage is done it is difficult to alleviate the unease and awkwardness that has arisen due to my unannounced arrival.

If I am not to spoil everyone else’s evening I will have to leave so I push Gaearon forward telling him to go and enjoy himself and making the excuse that I have forgotten to tell Gimli something so I must go back to the house.

“I will come back with you.” He offers.

I shake my head, “there is no need.”

“But Lord Gimli said we were to stay together.”

“He will understand why that is not possible now …” I see he is prepared to argue the point and hurriedly add, “look I will wait for you nearer the house and we can return together, so that Gimli will not be any the wiser, go … and enjoy yourself.” I give him a grin, “and that is an order from your prince and current employer by the way.”

Laughing he nods and hurries off to sit with his friends while I slip back into the trees leaving the others to their pleasure.

At least I can take comfort from the trees that welcome me wholeheartedly and do not seem to care what my parentage may be. I watch Gaearon, watching Aerlinn who is being watched in turn by several other ellon and one in particular I recall from earlier who had seemed entranced by Aerlinn’s efforts in the wine vats. I find myself flushing as I remember my own interest in the way the elleth’s body moved; still it is gratifying to know that I am not very different from the other ellon in that respect even if I was born a prince.

After a while I stop watching the elves below me and turn my attention to the night sky and lose myself in counting the stars.

So it comes as a surprise when a voice below enquires what I am doing hiding up a tree.

“Ressor?”

Despite his reputation as being a somewhat stuffy teacher and counselor Lord Erestor seems to have little trouble in climbing up into the oak tree and settling beside me.

“Well what are you doing up here?” he repeats his question.

“I was not exactly made to feel welcome” I answer as honestly as I can since there is no point at all in attempting to bamboozle Erestor. He has known me far too long and recognizes almost as well as Gimli when I am attempting to ‘pull the wool over his eyes’ as Gimli would put it. “I do not mean they were unkind it was just that they did not know what to do with a ‘princeling’ in their midst, I made them uncomfortable.”

“Ah!”

“And I did not wish to spoil their fun so I thought it would be best to withdraw.”

Ressor pats my arm, “that was kind of you and typical of your care of others. They will become more accustomed as they get to know you I expect.”

“I suppose so,” I try not to sigh or feel too sorry for myself and attempt to turn the conversation by asking what brings Erestor out here.”

“It was my turn.” Ressor chuckles at my blank expression, “you surely did not think that we would leave all you younglings out here to enjoy yourselves without some supervision.”

I had thought it, but I do not say so, for I should have known better, Lord Elrond would wish to know that all was as it should be in his own realm. But luckily Ressor does not seem to require an answer for he continues, “we do not intrude where we are not needed but sometimes innocent pastimes turn to foolish ones when there is so much wine flowing,” he pauses and looks down to the pathway beneath us and I see a group of ellon approaching. “Captain Roval” he calls down stopping them in their tracks.

“Lord Erestor, Prince Legolas,” the captain acknowledges me with a smile of recognition for we knew each other when I rode with the Elrondionnath in Imladris; I had not known he was here on Tol Eressëa.

“I take it you are going up to the waterfalls to dive?”

“We were, is there something you need from us my lord?”

“Not at all, I was about to go back to the house.” I cannot see from where I am sitting if there is some unvoiced conversation going on between them but Roval turns his attention to me and invites me to go along with him and his friends, if I have nothing better to do.

“As I recall you were an excellent diver once you had learned to ignore all the advice Elrohir tried to give you.”

“Thank you but there is no need to spoil your evening by having me tag along.” I answer his polite invitation with a refusal.

“You will not spoil our evening Lend Las,” He uses my affectionate diminutive that the twins and Arwen gifted me with. It came to be used by many who I got to know over the yeni, and reminds me that some here are not afraid of my exalted station and have not forgotten my preferences to be treated as everyone else whenever possible. “Or have you grown too proud to be seen in our company your most royal highness?”

I bristle at this but see from his smirk that he is only teasing, “Not too proud to show you wretched Noldor how a proper dive should be done” I counter, dropping down from the oak and wishing Ressor a good evening.

He waves us on our way by reminding us that since there are ellith present we had best retain at least a minimum of clothing, if we are not to have a riot on our hands. We are still laughing when we arrive at the head of the waterfall.

Since Ressor gave his tacit approval for the activity I assume that despite the height there is sufficient depth to the water to make diving reasonably safe as long as no one becomes too foolish and it is such a long time since I had this sort of opportunity I do not intend to waste it. I race Roval to the top of the falls, where a natural stone prominence will serve as a perfect diving platform. Having divested ourselves of boots, shirts, and tunics we take our places and on the count of three leap upwards and then dive in unison into the clear water below. We emerge water dripping from our bodies and hair to general applause for it seems that many of the others have followed us to the falls.

I would blush but I am too busy trying to climb as swiftly as possible to the top of the falls so I can dive again. By the time Roval and his friends and I have dived several times many others are queuing to join in the fun. There is no more formality. How can there be when most of the males are half naked, wet through, and involved in trying to knock each other off the rock into the water or doing their best to produce the most complicated of dives so as to impress the ellith who have gathered by the pool.

I do hear one or two complaints from the ellith about not having an opportunity to dive themselves but one of the older elleth who is obviously acting as chaperone promises that tomorrow the falls will be available for females only. This pronouncement brings cheers from the ellith and grumbling from the ellon who think it unfair that the females can watch us but we cannot watch them. The mental image of this number of ellith diving and swimming and then leaving the water with their clothing clinging to their forms is sufficiently unsettling as to make me leap straight back into the now crowded pool to cool off.

It is quite late or maybe early before the party breaks up, and by the time it does so, many of the young ellon are inviting me to join them tomorrow night when they have in mind another activity which they are sure I will enjoy and maybe even excel in.

The activity turns out to be knife juggling something I have done before, although it was frowned upon by my instructors back in Greenwood since one error could mean serious damage to hands needed for nocking an arrow or holding a sword. It seems that most elders are of the same opinion for it is decided that it would be best to take this particular pastime well beyond the eyes of Erestor and the other Lords of New Imladris.  
I suspect it might also be wise to ensure Gimli does not hear of it either, for I have a suspicion he might not actually like the idea of Gaearon and me taking part in the knife juggling competition. I am just about to tell Gaearon not to say anything as we enter the apartments set aside for our use.

I am hoping to hear the familiar sounds of Gimli’s snoring which will give me time to warn Gaearon but my guardian is not asleep but sitting by the open window of my bedchamber smoking his pipe and obviously waiting for us to come in.

“I see the pair of you enjoyed yourselves.” He chuckles taking in our wet clothes and general dishabille.

“We went diving Gimli.” I inform him somewhat superfluously.

“You never say so! And I thought it must be raining; now you had best get cleaned up a little and we can go and break our fast together and you can tell me all about your night as we eat.”

Gaearon hurries off to change before I have an opportunity to catch his eyes and all too soon we are sitting together at the table. Having listened to our telling of the diving platform Gimli rolls his eyes and then wonders out loud what foolishness we will be up to next. I manage to kick Gaearon’s shin under the table to silence him and say we have not chosen yet what we will do and then change the subject. Tonight will be soon enough to say something if it becomes necessary of course.

 


	6. Gimli's pov

Xxxxx

  
As the hours pass I find I am unable to find sleep. Even though I am sure it is unnecessary here in New Imladris, I can’t help worrying over my elf after what happened with Dagnir. Like Legolas, I never expected that anyone here on Tol Eressëa would mean him harm, but even here there is some vulnerability in his exalted position it seems. So when the hour gets later than I am comfortable with for him and Gaearon to still be out, I decide to leave the comfort of our apartments and go for a stroll. I am not on a mission to drag them back, but only wish to see for myself what sorts of activities are going on.

As I walk around the grounds, I see young elves engaged in all sorts of pastimes. I also notice that they seem to be well chaperoned, for there are those whose sole purpose seems to be standing back and watching the goings on. It isn’t long before I see Lord Erestor skillfully insert himself into the line of vision of a young couple who are dancing more closely than their parents would likely approve of. Flustered they take a step back and Erestor moves on without ever having had to say a word. When he spots me, he walks toward me with a knowing smile on his face.

“Are you looking for anyone in particular, Lord Gimli?” he asks innocently. Of course there is no need to answer since he knows very well what I am about. Instead of waiting for a response, he just tells me what he knows I wish to know.

It seems that Legolas found some difficulty in mixing with the crowd initially because some found his presence intimidating, so he had removed himself in order not to interfere with their pleasure. I sigh at this for while I had hoped that wouldn’t be an issue I very much feared that it might. Erestor assures me though that it will only take some time for others to get to know him and understand that he doesn’t care for rank distinction before he is fully accepted by the young elves of the island. In fact he has already been invited to the nearby falls where a great many of the youngsters have gathered to dive and swim in the frigid pools there. Lord Erestor is certain that Legolas’ superior athletic ability and skill at the sport will be sufficiently impressive so as to make others at least curious enough to take the time to get acquainted.

Since Erestor seems to think this is a perfectly safe activity-he would not openly sanction it if he did not-then I decide not to worry over the diving, though I also decide I’d be better not to go and see for myself. As the lone dwarf here on the island, I often find myself just closing my eyes to the antics of the agile elves around me. I find it difficult when it comes to my own elfling of course, so in this case we will both be better off if I am not around to witness the actual diving, for it would likely only result in stopping my heart.  Evidently my thoughts must show on my face for Erestor is quick to reassure me.  
   
“Lord Elrond is perfectly aware that the falls are used for such activities, my friend, and he has also assigned some ‘sensible’ folks to watch the proceedings.  He wouldn’t allow such, if he didn’t feel it was safe.”  
   
“Aye, of course not,” I agree and tell myself very firmly to go back to the house and not to worry.  I almost convince myself of it too and am able to grab a few hours of fitful sleep before rising to wait in Legolas bedchamber for him and Gaearon to come in.  By the time I hear them in the corridor I am slightly annoyed that they have managed to completely ignore my decree to watch the hour, but my annoyance flees when I see the two of them come in wet and disheveled with eyes bright with pleasure and skin glowing from physical exertion  
   
 “I see the pair of you enjoyed yourselves.” I cannot resist laughing in spite of their utter disregard for the time, or the fact that they are dripping all over Lord Elrond’s perfectly polished guest chamber floors.  I end up not mentioning either, but just sending them off to change so they can join me for breakfast.   
    
Very soon I am listening to the two of them animatedly describing last night’s events and talking of the evening ahead, though evidently no definite plans have been made yet. I am pleased that they are having an enjoyable time, but I can’t help interjecting at this point.

“While ye are making all these plans, I’d suggest you remember to schedule time to sleep. Even energetic lads like yourselves cannot expect to revel all night and work all day without ever stopping for respite. If I recall correctly, I believe that I might have mentioned something last evening about returning in time to sleep.”

They exchange concerned glances and then look back at me. I can see that Gaearon doesn’t know quite how to take me. I know Master Forodren to be a serious elf who suffers no nonsense when it comes to his horses and very likely when it comes to his son as well. No doubt disregarding Gaearon’s adar is a risky business, and I am not particularly known for putting up with foolishness or disobedience myself especially if danger is involved. But that was not the case last night and I have mellowed considerably in my old age and of course Legolas is quite skilled at getting around me. He lowers his eyes but then peaks up at me through dark lashes, speaking in a contrite voice.

“I’m sorry Gimli. We were having such a pleasant time that the time got away from us and before we knew it the sun was coming up.”

He offers me an apologetic smile and Gaearon, being a quick study, attempts to imitate him. I stifle a laugh at this and try to sound stern, though I am not sure if I succeed.

“Hmmph! Well try to keep your heads this night, for I am certain ye’d rather come back on your own volition than to be hauled back by an irritated dwarf. Gaearon you can ask your friend here and he can tell you that I can and will do so if I need be.”

“I am afraid it is so,” Legolas laughingly admits.

“I believe you!” Gaearon agrees.

“Very well then,” I say beginning to rise. “Shall we move on and see what needs to be done?”

They end up spending the better part of the day working in the fields on harvesting the grapes, though Legolas goes with me to spend some time watching some of blending and fining techniques meant to help prevent the wines from becoming cloudy. The day is both educational and exhausting, but when evening comes, my lad seems determined to be off again and I am glad for it for he is finally able to experience what it is like to spend time in pleasurable pursuits with folks his own age, something that is still very much a novelty for him. Still he is able to find mischief enough without help, so I am careful to remind him that I expect him to avoid trouble.

When Gaearon goes off to prepare to go out for the evening, I pull Legolas aside.

“Ye must remember that as his prince and employer, Gaearon looks up to you,” I tell him. “It is your duty to watch out for him and to set a good example in proper decorum.”

He nods solemnly before taking Gaearon’s place in the bedchamber they are sharing. I take advantage of that time to speak to my young apprentice and temporary charge.

“Even though Legolas is your employer, you are still older than he is and have far more experience in the social etiquette of the Island,” I tell him seriously. “I expect you to look out for your Prince and set a good example.”

“Indeed I will!” he promises and I can only hope that one or the other of them will remember what I’ve said when temptation to get into mischief comes along. For good measure I repeat, “Remember what I said,” as they walk out together and both nod knowingly.

It is a matter of a couple of hours before my words must have been forgotten for I am just returning to our apartments after having spent a pleasant time with Lord Elrond testing some of the new sparkling wines that were made from last year’s vintage. There is a special technique it seems to making this effervescent variety and I’ll admit it is an agreeable experience. Of course ale is much more the thing as far as I am concerned and so a pint or two of that went down rather easily as well. As I continue down the corridor I notice what looks like strange damp spots that look oddly like purple footprints. I am about to open the door when I hear muffled cursing and what sounds suspiciously like giggling. I recognize Legolas’ voice as being the first to speak between the peals of laughter.

“For crying out loud, Gaearon, don’t sit down. You’ll stain the furniture and then we’ll really be in it. Stay still while I get us some towels.”

“How exactly are you going to get to the towels without dripping all over the carpets in the bed chamber?” Gaearon asks, “At least remove your boots and wring your hair out first.” He then laughs harder as Legolas obviously follows his directions and I hear the sound of liquid streaming onto the floor.

“Shut up idiot, this is your fault,” Legolas claims a little grumpily. “You were the one who missed the jump and pulled me in with you.”

“My fault? You were my partner. You’re weren’t supposed to drop me.”

“You are heavier than you look. I misjudged.” He chuckles.

“I wonder why that is? “ Gaearon teases, “It couldn’t be that jug of wine you drank all by yourself could it? Hey!”

I open the door to see Gaearon receive a face full of sodden tunic, and Legolas standing in a purple puddle wearing socks stained purple and a drenched shirt and legging and holding one wet boot as if he is about to spill the contents on his laughing companion’s head. Gaearon is about to toss the tunic back when he sees me and drops it to the floor instead causing Legolas to turn to see what he is looking at. All hilarity stops and both pairs of eyes widen at seeing me standing in the doorway.

I quickly turn my back and cover my face with both hands to prevent them seeing my laughter, though I can feel my whole body shaking with it. I’m not sure when I’ve seen such a comical sight as those two standing dripping what must be great amounts of grape juice from their hair and clothing. I do my best to put on a serious face before turning back to ask what in the world they have been up to, but it is a difficult thing to manage, especially when they glance worriedly at one another like a couple of children caught robbing a cookie jar.

“Well?” I ask again, but then change my mind when they both start to explain at the same time. There is no way I can listen to their explanation while they are streaming onto the floor so I tell them to save it for after we have cleaned up the mess. Instead I bring them towels for mopping up the floors and themselves.   
After they have bathed and changed they return to me, looking much more like respectable young ellyn, though the ends of Legolas’ hair is still an odd color, a hazard of having fair hair when one takes a swim in grape juice it seems. They are also still a bit unsteady having evidently partaken in great quantities of wine, but they remain serious enough when I ask for an explanation.

“It was only a game,” Legolas begins cautiously as he sits at my feet. I lean back and light my pipe as I wait for the story. This should be entertaining at least.

I am not disappointed! Evidently they were challenged to a drinking game that involved seeing how many times each team could leap over a large vat of grape juice while having a round of drinks between each turn. It had gone very well and they were in the final game when Gaearon’s foot caught on the edge of the vat and he started to fall. Legolas had caught his hand in time, but had misjudged his partner’s weight and had been pulled into the vat along with him, much to the delight of the other team who were heartily cheered by the crowd of onlookers.

After this abbreviated explanation, they both wait worriedly for me to weigh in with an opinion on their foolish actions. For a long moment I clamp my lips together and close my eyes in an attempt to remain serious. But then, imagining the scene and recalling their earlier conversation when they didn’t know I was listening, one snort of laughter slips through. And then another and another until I give up and throw back my head in great peals of laughter. I am absolutely weak with it.

“When I said there was no telling what sort of foolishness the pair of ye would get up to, I had no idea! I never would have thought of this!” I comment, wiping tears of mirth from my eyes. “No one can accuse ye of not being creative, that’s for certain.”

They both look decidedly relieved, especially since I am so far gone I can only scold very mildly over it, wondering what Mistress Glasiel will say when she sees the ruined clothing. I am still chuckling when Legolas leans his head against my knee causing me to automatically run a hand over his still damp and slightly discolored hair. I know he is up to something, so I ask him.

“What is it ye want, Lamb?”

“Well, Elvellon, it is still early…” he begins.

“And ye wish to go back out do ye?” I guess.

“If its all right with you of course.”

“Well be off then,” I say indulgently, “but no diving tonight or getting involved in anything else that might be dangerous. It seems to me that you might be too impaired for that sort of thing after so much wine.”

“Of course,” he agrees, kissing my cheek as he rises to leave. Before the door closes behind them, I call out a reminder to pay attention to the time this time and be back well before morning.

In this at least they obey me, for it isn’t even yet midnight when I hear them in the corridor again, walking swiftly this time and talking low and serious.

“You should let me go somewhere else to take care of it, “ Legolas is saying, “Gimli is likely to still be awake.”

“Don’t be daft,” Gaearon replies. “It isn’t as if he won’t notice it. You’ll have to show him and explain it anyway.”

I am opening the door just as they walk up and am shocked to see blood spattered over the two of them. At first I can’t see where it is coming from, until Legolas reluctantly opens his hand to reveal a gash in the palm.

Grabbing him by the arm, I hurry him into the bathing chamber where I run water over it to reveal a deep but clean cut that appears to me to have been made by a knife.

“What in the name of Mahal happened, Lamb?” I ask, wrapping his hand in a clean towel. His eyes are tightly shut, and I can’t tell if it is because of pain or apprehension or more likely a bit of both, but he swallows hard and answers.

“Well you see there was a knife juggling competition…” he starts, and I feel the blood drain from my face. Of all the idiotic activities! And after swearing to follow my order to stay away from dangerous pursuits! I feel my jaws clench and it is all I can do to keep from throttling him on the spot.

“Knife juggling?” I demand, “Knife juggling! Have you completely lost your mind, Elfling? Why I’ve half a mind to…”

“Lord Gimli, please…” Gaearon begins, and I notice for the first time that he smells like a brewery. And just at the moment I am not in the mood for excuses or explanations!

“I do not want to hear it, young elf!” I growl. “Now sit yourself down and gather your wits before I decide to sober you up myself!”

“But you don’t understand…” he tries again wringing his hands. “It wasn’t…”

“Gaearon!” Legolas says the name as a warning at the same time that I do the same. No doubt the lad knows from experience when it is best to remain quiet and wishes his friend to realize the same thing. Taking the hint, Gaearon parks himself on the edge of the bed but stands again when we enter from the bathing chamber. Before he can say anything I point to the bed indicating that he should sit back down.

“The bleeding won’t stop, so we are going to seek a healer,” I inform him. “Do not even think of leaving these chambers while we are gone.” He nods and sits back down, looking ill and defeated, but there is no time to worry over that.

I have no trouble finding the healing wards here, having spent many hours there when first we arrived on Tol Eressëa and my lad was still recovering from the sea longing. The bleeding has slowed considerably by the time we arrive and thankfully there is no serious damage. A couple of stitches, some salve and a bandage puts him right quickly enough, though it is clear he must be in some pain. We are given a packet of pain relieving powders for later, though I wonder if he will be able to keep them down after so much wine earlier. He looks far less inebriated than Gaearon did, however, so likely he will be mostly fine by morning. Or at least his hand will be. I can’t promise for other parts of his anatomy after such a foolish stunt.

I don’t say this, but I don’t have to. He knows very well that I have reached my limit and then some on putting up with foolishness. Fun and games are one thing, but endangering himself in such a stupid way is quite another. He knows very well I will have something to say about that!


	7. Legolas pov

  
The healer who is treating my injury sniffs when I explain that ‘it was just an accident’

“Accident bedamned,” Gimli growls at me. “This young fool was knife juggling.”

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks at the exasperation evident in Gimli’s voice. I almost open my mouth to tell what truly happened but then close it again, recalling what my dwarf had told me when Gaearon and I went out this evening

“You must remember that as his prince and employer, Gaearon looks up to you. It is your duty to watch out for him and to set a good example.”

Well I did not do that did I? I failed to keep Gaearon safe and to ensure he did not get into trouble. I should have stopped what was going on long before it got the point when Gaearon accepted that foolish challenge. If only Aerlinn had not come along at just that moment I am sure I could have persuaded Gaearon to walk away. Ai but I have made a complete mess of the whole thing! All I can do now is try to protect Gaearon from Gimli’s wrath.

Even back in our chamber I could see that Gimli was beginning to find his behavior annoying. The longer I can keep him away from our rooms the more likely it is that Gaearon will have passed out before we return which will suit me in more than one way.

Gimli has the sort of expression on his face as he watches the healer at work that tells me that the gash in my hand is not going to be the most painful part of my anatomy tonight. I shift and squirm, thinking of what Gaearon will hear or see if he is still awake.

It is all very well to know that he is still subject to similar discipline by his own father but quite another for him to witness my punishment at the hands of my irate guardian. Yet if I am to protect Gaearon it may well be that I will have to accept that my chastisement will be rather more public than I would wish.

I sigh and Gimli immediately asks if I am in much pain. Not as much as I am going to be, I think but of course I do not say that out loud. Rather I just admit that the stitches that are being placed are uncomfortable.

“Aye well, tis no more than you deserve.”

“Yes Gimli,” I answer as meekly as I can and then relapse into silence once more, wishing very much that I had not sought my guardian’s permission to go out again this night.

It had all seemed so innocent. After the fun of the vat jumping or in mine and Gaearon’s case the vat diving competition we were both ready to try something a little different. I was happy that we had been invited to join some of the ellon in the competition for it seemed to me that it showed I was being accepted, and not being kept at arm’s length due to my position as a prince.

We had thought only of walking out to where we knew the competition was being held, I had no real intention of taking part in the contest although I had done so before back in the Greenwood, and been quite successful at it I did not wish to ‘show off’.

There was a noisy crowd of young ellon in the glade when we arrived and rather more wine available for us to sample than turned out to be wise given what eventually happened but initially we only watched the different competitors and renewed acquaintance with some of Elrond’s guards as well as some of the warriors from New Lothlorien. There was a great deal of laughter and teasing over my earlier lapse and my fall into the wine vats. Which I took in good part but I could see that Gaearon was less comfortable with the banter than I was and this became even more evident when it was found that not only ellon were present but also quite a few ellith amongst them Aerlinn.

Orophin, Haldir’s younger brother sought me out and inveigled me into joining him in a spot of paired throwing of the daggers. I was pleased to find that my old dexterity had not deserted me and soon Orophin and I were spinning the knives as we threw them between us. We soon garnered quite an audience who were very appreciative of our skills and when we brought the display to an end we both gave an exaggerated bow before retiring from the lists leaving the competition open to those who had never had to learn such fancy skills for anything more than amusement. Orophin and I at least had a more serious reason for indulging in such an exhibition. Knife throwing skills were a necessary part of warrior training and could mean the difference between life and death in a skirmish with Orc or other minions of the dark lord. But we did not mention any of that merely accepting the congratulations and the kudos from the audience and going off to find a wine skin or two that we could liberate.

So it was that I did not at first realize what was happening and it came as a shock when my attention was drawn to where Gaearon was arguing with one of the scribes that worked in Elrond’s library.

I hurried over to where they were both standing and it was immediately clear that in my absence Gaearon had been indulging in some very serious drinking and that he had taken the scribes interest in Aerlinn as a personal insult.

Aerlinn was not helping matters a great deal, although I cannot lay the blame at her door, she was only reminding Gaearon that she had a perfect right to speak with whomever she chose, and that he had no right to try and tell her otherwise.

“And Sirion was not annoying me,” Aerlinn tossed her head, “I was enjoying watching his skill with the knives.”

“I could do better than him,” Gaearon retorted “he was only juggling with three daggers I can do five.”

“Gaearon” I warned, for as far as I knew he had never even indulged in such a pastime before. Even Sirion urged him not to be a fool which might not have been the wisest thing to have said in the circumstances for Gaearon snatched up three daggers and ordered one of the on lookers to be ready to toss him two more once he was ready.

He began to toss the knives and for a short while I thought all would be well, for Gaearon soon got into the rhythm and the knives flew through the air but once he added another knife he began to struggle. I urged him to stop as did the others who were nearby for it was plain that he was endangering himself by continuing but Gaearon would not listen to our pleading and demanded another knife be thrown to him.

  
As it whistled through the air it was as if everything around me slowed down. I could see the dagger and knew that there was no chance of Gaearon catching it without doing himself a great deal of harm and so I stepped in front of him intent on catching the knife before it reached him. I would have done it as well had he not stumbled into me dropping the daggers he was juggling and causing me to catch the fifth dagger not with the hilt but with the blade, which sliced into the palm of my hand.

It could have been a great deal worse of course. The gash was deep but clean and by dint of making a fist and wrapping my hand in the folds of my tunic I managed to disguise the seriousness of the injury instead turning folk’s attention to Gaearon. The accident had sobered him quite quickly. He looked pale and shaky and I used that as an excuse to return to the house reassuring those who asked that my cut was the veriest scratch and of nothing to be concerned over.

I am not sure I convinced Aerlinn of that but did not stay to find out, wanting to be away from the scene of the accident before any of our elders put in an appearance.

Given that I had promised Gimli that I would act with discretion and stay away from ‘dangerous pursuits’ and ensure that Gaearon did not get into trouble the last thing I needed was for someone to go telling tales on me. Now of course the truth will have to come out, or at least some of it will.   
I offer a prayer to the Valar that Gaearon will be asleep by the time we return. If I can speak to him before he has to talk with Gimli, I can make sure that our stories match. There is no need for Gimli to know that it was Gaearon that was juggling the knives it is far better for all concerned that I am the one who takes the blame. It is my responsibility to do so.  
And I would not wish Gaearon to be sent back to his father in disgrace which might well be the case if the full story came out, and Gimli would be bound to blame himself for not taking better care of him as he had promised Forodren and that would spoil things for him as well. No it is better all-round if the fault is placed at my feet.

The healer has finished his work and bandaged my hand while I sat here thinking. He is now telling Gimli that I will need to rest and not use my hand for at least a day and I see he has handed over some pain killing powders for me to take. I wonder how efficacious they are for I might be needing them for other areas besides my hand. Once again I hope that Gaearon will have passed out before we get back, this time for my own ‘comfort’.

Because if he has not this is going to be very embarrassing.

“Come Lamb” Gimli helps me down from the examination couch and steers me from the room and I am seized with a sudden thought as we go down the steps into the courtyard. I stagger slightly and immediately Gimli grabs my arm more firmly.

“What is it? Are you feeling faint?”

“Uh, just a little lightheaded” I reply doing my best to look suitably wan and worn.

“Then let’s get you back to our chambers and into bed. Tomorrow is soon enough for us to discuss things more fully. I doubt we will get much sense from young Gaearon from the way he was behaving when you came in. What he thought was more important than getting you seen by the healers I do not know.

What a pair of fools, and you Lamb, what possessed you … No never mind, it scarcely matters now. You need rest and I am going to make sure you get it.”

I let him scold and chide me all the way back, because I know he has been worried about me and because there is comfort in his words and in his caring. I am relieved to see as we enter our chambers that Gaearon has succumbed to the effect of the wine and is curled up fast asleep on my bed.

Gimli rolls his eyes and steers me into his bedchamber and points at the bed.

“In ye get while I make up this powder.” He orders and I hurry to obey, swallowing the concoction without demur and letting my dwarf tuck the covers around my shoulders and then sit by the bedside with the obvious intention or remaining there until I fall asleep.

It is my intention to try and come up with a convincing story to cover at least some of our foolishness tonight but instead my head has hardly touched my pillow when I too fall into deep sleep.

  
I wake in what I take to be the early hours of the morning, and my first reaction is to look and see where my guardian is …

Well, he is no longer sitting in the chair beside my bed, but warmth at my back informs me that Gimli is still keeping watch in his own particular fashion. There is nothing quite like the comfort of knowing a dwarf is guarding your back for you for they are ferocious fighters and even more fierce friends and protectors.

Easing myself out of bed I slip into my own bedchamber and shake Gaearon’s shoulder.

“Wake, Gaearon, please wake” I plead

I am rewarded by a groan and eventually a fluttering of eyelashes

“Lord Legolas?”

“Gaearon,” I whisper, “You must listen to me! When Gimli asks about what happened tonight you have to tell him that I was the one who was juggling knives.”

He blinks at me and I can see the question on his face. Before he asks why, I answer.

“Because if he believes it is you, he may send you home in disgrace …” I tell him. I see him frowning, and add, “and it will then come back on me because I was supposed to ensure you remained out of trouble. Believe me it will go much easier on me if you give Gimli the impression that I was the one who was involved in knife juggling not you.”

“But Lord Legolas …”

“Trust me, Gaearon it will be better for all of us.”

“I cannot lie.”

“Then do not do so. If you are ‘too ill’ to answer his questions, he will be happy to leave you to recover and take out his frustration on me just as it should be. Promise me.”

I can see that given his fragile state of health he is wavering and add as a clincher, “I am your lord and master Gaearon I can demand it of you if I choose. I would very much sooner you agreed without it.”

“Very well” his acceptance is reluctant but I do not care for that. I have his word and leaving him to fall back into slumber I slip back into Gimli’s chamber and curl up with the strength of a dwarven warrior to guard my sleep.

I do not wake until the sun is high in the sky, and of course Gimli is still there beside me, he smiles as I yawn and wipe my eyes only to wince as the slash on my palm throbs in remembrance of last nights idiocy.

“Gimli I am so sorry”

“Aye, that I can believe. The idea of ye juggling with knives …”

“It was used as an exercise for the trainee warriors in the Greenwood” I explain, “I have always excelled in it.”

He gives me a look, “is that so laddie? Then maybe ye can explain to me why ye cut yourself so badly?”

The question makes me pause of course for Gimli is far too insightful and I have to grope for an excuse, “I had drunk a great deal too much wine”

He looks at me closely and I have to look away but all he says is “Aye that may be true, and that is even more reason that you should not have done it. Still I believe, you have been punished sufficiently for you will be spending the rest of today with me and you will not stray further than an arm’s length from me for the whole of it. Do I make myself plain lad?”

I nod, thinking that it is a small price to pay but wondering also about Gaearon.

As if he can read my thoughts he says, “Gaearon is in a worse case even than you. I tried to speak to the laddie first thing and he struggled to string two sensible words together. I have recommended he sleep for the rest of the morning and maybe get up this afternoon. As for you lamb; you are going to spend the day under my eye, and if you so much as twitch without my say so; you are going to find yourself in trouble.”

I sigh and nod. This is going to be a long day I decide. I can only hope that I can get to the end of it with a whole skin. Not that I deserve to do so, but I truly hope that is the case just as I hope that no one speaks of what really happened last night, for if they do my goose will be truly cooked as Pippin would have said.


	8. Gimli's pov

 

“Gaearon!” I give his shoulder a gentle shake, causing the lad to groan and roll over, pulling the pillow over his head as he does so.

“Wake, Gaearon,” I shake him harder this time.

“I agreed to your terms already,” comes the muffled reply, “now go away!”

No doubt it is the confused dreams of a drunken haze speaking, but I ask anyway.

“What terms? “

Slowly he rolls to his back again and attempts to open one eye, before moaning and quickly closing it again.

“Your terms, anything you want. I’ll give you every possession I have and promise you my first born child if you would just draw the curtains and go away! I’m begging you, please.”

“Feeling a bit under the weather are you Laddie?” I chuckle.

One brown eye finally makes an appearance.

  
“Lord Gimli?”

“Who else were you expecting lad?” I ask as he attempts unsuccessfully to sit up. He groans again, this time clutching his stomach making me wonder if he is about to lose its contents. I hurry to find a basin and then a cool damp cloth, which he presses to his eyes as soon as I hand it to him. The phrase ‘death warmed over’ comes to mind when I think of describing his condition. It is clear I’m not likely to get any sensible information from him right now.

“I came to speak to you about what happened last night, though by the looks of it, you may not be remembering too clearly.”

  
I can see when he finally recalls last evening for he groans again and winces before trying to apologize.

“I’m so sorry, Lord Gimli. I’ve let you down terribly.”

I know he likely doesn’t mean he’s disappointed me by overindulging, but that he feels guilty for having not protected his prince better.

“Never mind, Lad,” I assure him, “ You mustn’t blame yourself. The Valar themselves couldn’t prevent that one from trouble. I’m sure you did your best, though after this I’d suggest you slow down on the wine consumption! “

It is a very mild rebuke, but he offers me an anguished look while apologizing once again and I notice he has become rather green. I should drag him out of bed and make him face the day to teach him a good lesson about the dangers of over-drinking. However having become a bit of a soft touch in my old age, I end up encouraging him to sleep off the ill effects of the wine. I even offer him some very weak tea that is laced with a bit of the pain relieving powders we procured from the healer last evening. He manages to sit up and sip at it while I draw the curtains to shut out the light.

“I’d suggest you sleep this morning and see if you feel up to getting up later in the day,” I tell him.

He looks as if he would like to say something, but considering his fragile state he just nods and falls back against the pillows and will likely be asleep again before I cross back to my bedchamber to check on my own elfling.

I wonder if Legolas will be in as bad a state as Gaearon seems to be. I am quite familiar with his skills and I know very well he would have had to have been extremely intoxicated to miss with those knives. He hadn’t seemed so bad last evening, though I suspect slicing his hand open acted quickly to sober him up. Such a foolish occupation for him to take part in and after promising to heed my warnings not to get involved in anything dangerous or extreme! I can’t imagine Lord Elrond sanctioning such a thing when it is just for fun and not for battle training. There is very little fun in losing a finger or two! As it was it was bad enough for the cut was deep and he was feeling rather faint on the walk back last night. This was fortunate for him in some ways, for it saved him an immediate trip over my knee last night and I am still reluctant to respond in such a way even today. I wouldn’t like to do anything that could be detrimental to his recovery after so much blood loss that he was light headed over it. Not that there is naught but feathers up there anyway if the foolishness of last night is anything to go by.

He is still asleep when I return and remains so for the next several hours. When he finally does wake up, the first words out of his mouth are an apology for what happened last evening and an excuse that he normally excels at knife juggling, but had some trouble because of having drunk far to much wine. I do not doubt that he is sorry and tell him so. Anyone who has suffered several painful stitches and is now eyeball deep in trouble would be very sorry indeed. When I inform him that he is to stay within arm’s reach of me for the entire day, he nods meekly, looking relieved and a bit surprised. It may seem like a light sentence considering the seriousness of his actions last night, but I have a feeling it won’t be quite as easy as he believes it to be for I am not jesting.

I prove that very soon when he starts to rise to prepare for the day getting up on the opposite side of the bed from where I am sitting.   
“Just where exactly do ye think you are going Elfling?” I growl, raising an eyebrow.

“Um, to get dressed?” he guesses uncertainly.

“Not without my permission,” I remind him, “Already you have strayed farther away than an arm’s length and it hasn’t been a minute past my orders not to do so.”

He slowly sits back down and moves closer to me.

“I didn’t know you meant it quite so…”

“Literally?” I interrupt.

He nods.

“I assure you, I do. This is an arm’s length.” I hold out an arm to demonstrate the expanse of his freedom for today. “You will gain my permission first for anything beyond that, unless you’d like to find yourself in a lot of hot water and you can believe me when I say this because I have had quite enough messing about for one week.”

He swallows nervously and lowers his eyes before asking softly, “Gimli may I?” he gestures toward the door.

“Ten minutes,” I tell him, looking at the clock on the mantle, “and then you are to come straight back.”

Without argument or comment he hurries off, now quite convinced of the seriousness of my determination. When he comes back, I look at the clock and nod before moving to the common room to settle in for a smoke. He follows me and stands at my side until he sees my intentions and then settles down on the floor at my feet with a small sigh. He straightens his face quickly, though, when I give him a look and take my time lighting the pipeweed.

The time I take over the pipe is painfully long even for me, but he needn’t think this day is going to be an easy one. He manages to stick close to me as I go about the usual business of the morning, including replacing the bandage on his damaged hand. I have to remind myself that it is his own foolishness that caused it lest I start to feel too sorry for him, as it still looks rather painful, especially when he winces slightly at the touch.

After that I step out on the balcony, knowing he is likely anxious to be outside. He stands next to me overlooking the balustrade, but seems to be daydreaming a bit when I move back inside for he forgets this time to follow me. This is going to be a very long day if he is losing focus before we even leave our chambers. I walk back over and apply a sharp slap to the back of his thigh, causing him to yelp and look startled before flushing in realization of his mistake.

“Pay attention, Lad,” I remind him. “Do not go beyond my reach again, or ye will woefully regret it.”

“I’m sorry Gimli.”

“Aye ye will be a great deal sorrier if ye forget another time.” I say. “Now shall we go break our fast?”

I can see the idea does not appeal, for there are bound to be folks about even at t his late hour, but he only nods and follows me out into the corridor. We are about to sit down at a table, when Aerlinn and Mistress Elanor spot us and hurry over. Mistress Elanor seems to have heard about the knife juggling, for she fusses over his hand while Aerlinn stands by looking concerned.

“Aerlinn told me what happened,” Elanor says. “Such foolishness I’ve never heard in my life!”

Mistress Elanor never was one to keep her opinion to herself and I find myself nodding in agreement with her outspoken words.

“If you hadn’t intervened when you did, it might have been much worse,” she continues. It is an odd thing to say and I sense there is something I don’t know yet, but before I can ask her, my elf sees a friend across the room and starts to walk toward him. I am not sure how he can forget my words so soon, but I step forward and grab a fist full of his tunic and drag him back to my side.

“What did I just say?” I ask him in a whispered warning, “If you forget yourself again, you will be taken back to our chambers and I swear you won’t find it one bit pleasant. Is that plain enough or would you like to go somewhere private to discuss it?”

“No thank you, Elvellon,” he quickly responds, blanching at my words, “I won’t forget again.”

“Good lad!” I say, patting his arm. “Now let us find a seat shall we?”

After that the day goes fairly smoothly. It’s not the easiest day ever for my elf, but I don’t go out of my way to make it especially difficult either. I try to keep up a pleasant conversation and take his elbow as we walk together to help remind him where he needs to be without unduly embarrassing him. We do receive an odd look or two when he has to wait for me to go with him when someone summons him, or when he follows me back to our chambers when I have to return to retrieve a book I had forgotten that I had intended to return to Lord Elrond. Still no one asks any questions.

Somewhere around midday I notice Gaearon has managed to make it out and is halfheartedly joining in with the work of moving barrels to be aged before they are bottled. From time to time I notice him watching me with my elf. I imagine he alone understands what is going on here for he looks both sympathetic and guilty, even though I have already explained that I don’t blame him for what happened with the knife juggling. I also notice him conferring with Aerlinn and Mistress Elanor over something, though I cannot hear the conversation between them.

Things become sharply more difficult as the evening draws near. Legolas had evidently made quite a few friends over the last day or so for he has to refuse one invitation after another. Some of them couldn’t be accepted anyway because of his damaged hand, but others there is no way of explaining his reason for declining. I decide to stay severely out of it and let him handle the explaining on his own, even though my softer side would very much like to relent and set him free. Instead I harden my heart, knowing from experience it would not be in anyone’s best interest to cave in after having made the decree. Promises, whether they are pleasant or unpleasant, must be kept!

After four or five such refusals, I decide it might be best to return to our chambers rather than to subject him to anymore explaining, but before I can suggest this, Gaearon approaches us.

Legolas looks surprisingly concerned over this for some reason and attempts to draw me away, but Gaearon seems determined to speak.

“Lord Gimli, I must speak with you.” He says, looking past my elfling and right to me.

“I am certain it can wait, Gaearon,” Legolas growls between gritted teeth, making me stare at him in surprise at his poor manners. I frown at him before turning back to Gaearon.

“Of course, Lad, what did you need to speak to me about?” I ask.

“I need to confess something,” he begins, while Legolas speaks at the same time.

“Gaearon! Remember what I said earlier…”

This time he addresses my elfling, “I remember, but I cannot live with myself if I continue with this ruse.”

“But you agreed to…” Legolas continues to argue, growing angrier and more panicked, though over what I do not know. However it is about time I find out. This time it is me who interrupts.

“Legolas, hush and let Gaearon speak!” I shake his arm to gain his attention.

“But..”

I point a warning finger at him and he finally closes his mouth in defeat, grimacing in anticipation of whatever it is that is about to be said.

“Go on speak up,” I say turning to Gaearon, who now that he has the chance seems hesitant to say his piece. “Out with it now, Lad. You are trying my patience.” I point out.

Legolas glares at him, but I step between them and gesture for Gaearon to get on with it.

“It is just this, Lord Gimli: Lord Legolas was not the one juggling knives yesterday evening. It was me. He only tried to intercept the fifth one that was being tossed to me and missed it by accident. He only meant to protect me.”

I step back and look back and forth between the two miscreants before me, wondering which one to believe. It seems that there has been a great deal of deception going on around here and by more than one person. What in Mahal’s name is going on, I do not know, but I am damn sure ready to find out. 


	9. Legolas pov

  
I squeeze my eyes shut in a vain attempt to shut out the look on Gimli’s face. Why did Gaearon have to open his mouth? We had only to get to the end of the day and all would have been over and forgotten; now all of Mordor will be let loose.

Of course I should have seen that this would be the inevitable ending to my attempts to avoid telling Gimli the truth, but I had hoped … foolishly as it now turns out of course ,that just this once I would not be called to account and my dissembling would work.

Now I have an incandescent dwarf to face as if a whole day of embarrassment was not enough punishment for anyone. I have not been allowed to be literally more than an arm’s length from my guardian which has caused more than one uncomfortable encounter and some strange looks from friends and acquaintances.

I hear Gaearon mutter, “I am sorry Lord Legolas, but I could not let you take the blame for something that was my fault.”

I do not respond because the clearing of a dwarven throat draws my full attention back to Gimli who is standing with his hands on his hips frowning ferociously from one to the other of us. A low growl a mixture of indignation and frustration sounds, and then Gimli is ordering us both back to our chambers and we are hurrying to obey. No one knows better than I that my guardian is careful of my dignity in public but I would not care to put that theory to the test just now so while I might not admit to running, let us say I am scurrying to get inside and away from the eyes of the curious.

Gaearon is also moving with alacrity. We do not speak though, but keep our thoughts to ourselves for now. Explanations will come soon enough. I breathe a sigh of relief as we enter the rooms set aside for our use, and with Gaearon still by my side I stare wide eyed at the door into the hallway from which at any moment an angry dwarf is going to issue forth.

The door closes behind Gimli with a decided click and he advances upon us as we do our best to retreat until we find ourselves with our backs to the fortunately empty fireplace.

“I am going to ask each of you to explain yourselves,” Gimli says simply, “While one speaks, the other will keep his tongue between his teeth. Do you both understand me?”

“Yes Lord Gimli”

“Yes Gimli.”

We both respond together.

“I’ll hear your story first young Gaearon, and you, Lamb will keep quiet until he is done or I will make you a very sorry and sore young elfling. Mind me now.”

I swallow and nod my understanding, knowing my face is flaming, as Gaearon stares first at Gimli and then back at me as the full extent of what we might both be facing finally dawns on him.

“Very well, go on lad…” Gimli encourages his protégée.

I cringe as Gaearon’s tale is told, for I can scarcely be said to have come out of it in a very good light. I know that my friend tries to downplay my order to him to keep silent about the injury and can also tell by the way Gimli’s dark, knowing eyes fall on me that he is not fooled by it by one iota.

“I see,” Gimli nods as Gaearon comes to an end of his story. “Would you like to give me your version of events now elfling?”

“There is little more to add,” I quaver, “It was my fault that Gaearon got involved in the knife juggling. I should have not have allowed myself to be persuaded to ‘show off’ my skills or to then leave Gaearon while I went off to drink wine with Orophin. Moreover, I was entirely at fault for seeking to avoid telling you what had really happened and for forcing Gaearon to agree to keep quiet about it.”

“He only intervened to keep me safe,” Gaearon blurts out, “I could have been seriously injured if he had not done so.”

“So you have already told me” Gimli informs him. “I can almost, I repeat almost understand your silly desire to prove your worth to the lasses, and to show off your skills. It was wrong of both of you, but as I say given the occasion and the wine I might have accepted it as mere flighty foolishness and given thanks to Aûle that you were neither of you badly hurt. What I have yet to hear is why you then felt it necessary to lie to me about it?”

And that of course is what hurts my guardian: my lack of trust in him. How many times has he told me there is nothing I cannot say to him, no trouble too big or too small that I cannot share?

“I am truly sorry Gimli,” I say.

“Aye, I can see you are, but I still want to know why. Did you not think I would understand and want to do the best for the both of you?”

I hang my head, taking a sudden interest in the toes of my boots, and I feel rather than see Gaearon is doing the same.

It feels somehow inadequate to say that I am sorry yet again but I say it anyway. What else can I say?

Gimli sighs and looks from one to the other of us, then throws up his hands.

“What a pair of fools you are,. Let me make a guess at what was in those flighty elven brains of yours.”

I would bristle at that save that even I am not that stupid so I merely shuffle my feet and continue to look at the floor.

“No doubt you both felt responsible for what happened and did not wish to get the other into trouble so tried to take the blame onto yourselves instead”

He sees from the way Gaearon and I trade looks that he is correct and sighs again.

“For all the first born are supposed to be counted amongst the wise I wonder at their inability to teach you younglings the difference between taking proper responsibility and the sheer bloody minded stupidity of feeling guilty for something that was beyond your ability to avoid.”

Perhaps predictably both Gaearon and I try to deny this.

“Nay Lord Gimli it was entirely my fault.”

“I was supposed to be looking out for Gaearon. I should be held responsible.”

Gimli looks even more dismayed.

“You prove my point. I should have seen it coming; free flowing wine, females, a lot of young males together. Ai! tis no wonder you made such fools of yourselves. I should have known better than to let you go out when it was plain as a pikestaff the pair of you were half cut and up for a spree. I gave you another rope and you managed to hang yourselves.” He shakes his head at his own choices before shrugging and frowning again, “but all that is beside the point. I did and you did, and the accident happened. It is not that which upsets me most but the fact that the pair of you then conspired to hide it from me, and worse you then lied to me, something you well know I despise.”

Gimli’s words sink into my brain and bring tears to my eyes. I feel like weeping not for my own sake but for his. It is true he has been more than generous to us both since we arrived in Imladris, even when we repaid his generosity by staying out later than we should and behaving in a manner that must have caused him embarrassment. But worse than that I have betrayed his trust in a way that is indeed unforgivable and I know I have hurt him deeply.

I take a deep breath and say as steadily as I can, “You are very right Gimli. I have abused your kindness and taken advantage of your tolerance, and … and betrayed your trust.” I blink away the tears and force myself to look at Gimli. “Only do not blame Gaearon please. He only hid the truth because I asked him to.”

“Nay Lord Legolas, I am equally culpable, if not more so. I was the one who…”

“Enough!” Gimli explodes. “Listen to me! You are both at fault and you will both be held to account”

“Account?” Gaearon stutters

“Aye laddie, I promised your da that I would care for you, and so I will, belatedly perhaps, but I stand by my promise to him. You disobeyed me by your dangerous actions and then lied about it. I will not tolerate such behavior and I’m thinking neither would your Da. You will both pay for your naughtiness.”

“But Gimli…” I feel myself flushing further at his use of that word.

“Or we could go home and deal with things there if you prefer, though there will surely be tales if we were to up and disappear before the end of the festival, especially considering that others were there to witness what happened. But if you would rather settle things with Master Forodren we can do that.”

I share a look with Gaearon, and it is plain that the idea of going home to face Forodren is not something he wishes to consider, but I am not so certain that he understands what facing up to ‘paying’ my dwarf means either, but then he surprises me by squaring his shoulders and answering.

“Ada put me into your hands, Lord Gimli, and I am content with that. I believe I know well what it means for me if I choose to remain here, but while I cannot look forward to it, it will mean I will have at least paid for my sins and not further shamed either you or my father.”

I can see Gimli is impressed by this attitude. I would speak up in turn save for the fact that I doubt I am really being given a choice. Gimli has reached the limits of his patience for this particular elf. I will be going over his knee whatever I say.

“That is well said lad,” Gimli inclines his head, “now which of you is going first?”

This at least I can take upon myself and in doing so perhaps give Gaearon a moment to prepare for his upcoming ordeal.

“That will be me Elvellon …”

I hesitate wondering if this will one of the rare occasions when a punishment is undertaken with an interested audience. But as ever Gimli allows me the small comfort of at least a semblance of privacy and waves me into his bedchamber. I look back only once to offer a small smile meant to reassure my partner in crime and then Gimli is closing the door with a decided click and we are alone.

Not wanting to alarm Gaeraon, I try to keep silent, but with very little success. I am doing well enough until Gimli asks me why it was that I find myself in this most undignified of positions and then makes me answer him. My beloved guardian seems determined that I should give voice to my many errors of the last few days.

Once I have opened my mouth to respond I find it impossible to keep the other less harmonious sounds from issuing from my throat. I moan and howl and plead for clemency all of which Gimli has no trouble ignoring.

I am sure that my rear end is quite literally on fire, not to mention my thighs which are scorched. As for my sit spot, let us just say I will not be sitting on that particular spot any time soon, maybe in the next age.

I wonder how Gaearon is bearing up next door waiting and listening to what is happening to me. Maybe he has changed his mind and has already bolted for home.

Then as Gimli tips me further forward I find I have no time to think of anything save the excruciating pain that is blossoming across my rear as the sound of my sobs fill the air.

Yet eventually, Gimli deems I have paid the full price for my transgressions and I find myself wrapped in his arms. The hand that has just been chastising me is now calming and comforting me and I lean into that comfort and find myself almost slipping into sleep, but Gimli whispers to me that there is more business for him to conduct before I can seek my rest and I should remember Gaearon. With a final apology to my guardian I limp to the door and press Gaearon’s arm as he enters the bedchamber and closes the door behind him.

If I thought suffering through a sound spanking was bad then listening to someone else being punished is even worse. I do my best to shut out the sounds emanating from the room but it is impossible. I find myself pleading with the Valar to end Gaearon’s suffering, and eventually they answer my prayers for the door opens again and Gimli is standing there his arms open welcoming me back into them even as I see Gaearon already tucked under the covers.

“Come lamb, I think a period of rest will do you as much good as young Gaearon here,.I will wake you both in time for dinner.”

He smiles at us and I wonder what he thinks seeing two red-eyed very sore elflings looking up at him. He leans down and kisses first my brow and then Gaearon’s before abjuring us both to go to sleep and despite the pain and the embarrassment that is what we both do.


	10. Legolas pov

  
The final day of the wine harvest has come and gone, with a great feast held in the gardens of the Homely House in New Imladris. And as Elrond’s guests and workers begin to pack up for their journeys home there are more than a few with the sort of headache that only comes after long and riotous hours of enjoying oneself.

Has the stay here lived up to my expectations, yes; there have been things that I wish had not happened, and my backside is still suffering from one of those ‘things’. I am still a little sore and the ride back will no doubt be uncomfortable but not to such an extent that it will spoil the more pleasant memories that I will also carry home with me.

I have learned a great deal about the growing of vines and the making of wine, and I am now more determined than ever to plant my own vineyard on the slopes of the hills to the north of the Great House and in time to pick and then prepare the grapes for bottling.

Erestor is sending me home with a book full of instructions and advice and has already said that when I begin to mark out the terraces for the vines he will come and work with me. His help will be invaluable and I know I am fortunate that he is prepared to spend his time teaching me what I will need to know.

Gimli says that ‘Ressor’ spoils me, but I do not think he was serious, for as Ressor told him, he only follows ‘his’ lead in that. Either way I am not complaining for their support is vital if I am to prove to others here on Tol Eressëa that I am a creditable leader and capable of ruling in my father’s stead for the years before he travels, as I hope he finally will.

I fear I have done myself few favors in the last few days in that regard although I have as Gimli has impressed upon me, paid for my foolishness. I know he is not one to hold a grudge while Erestor merely said that it was quite normal for young ellon to run a little wild at such an event as a wine harvest and that I should not allow it to weigh too heavily on my conscience.

“As long as you learn from your mistakes and do not repeat them, you will do well enough.” He told me when he learned of my latest mishap. “As will young Gaearon who seems to me to be a very good youngling and is, I hear learning, smithing from Gimli, something that will be of great use to him in the years ahead.”

Thinking of Erestor’s words on Gaearon leads me to look about to see where he has gotten to. He is helping Gimli to pack the wagons. He is looking much better than he did two days ago when we both faced Gimli’s displeasure. Poor Gaearon’s guilty conscience made it harder for him to forgive himself and to finally accept what Gimli and Mistress Elanor were saying to him, that it was unnecessary to tell his father what had occurred here.

“Ye have already paid the price for your foolishness, lad” Gimli had insisted. “It isn’t necessary to do so again.”

  
But I think it was Mistress Elanor’s contribution that swayed him finally for she pointed out that no one would benefit from his second confession least of all Forodren and that the hardship of remaining silent might very well act on his conscience and maybe prevent him from doing something similar in the future.

“It has been dealt with and the lesson learned already. Let it go Gaearon, and concentrate on showing your Adar what a good son he has and how much you have benefited from this time in New Imladris when the time comes to begin planting those vines.”

I think it also helped that as Gimli had prophesied Aerlinn had shown very pretty concern for him after the incident with the daggers. I do not like to think that she knew the full extent of the price Gaearon and I paid. It may be normal for young elves to be punished in such a fashion but no one wants it made public especially when they are away from home and under the gaze of so many others, but she was happy to see us go down to dinner on the night after Gimli’s ‘discussions’ with us both. I was required to join Lord Elrond and his family on the top table, but Gaearon was able to slip in and sit in an unobtrusive corner where Elanor and Aerlinn soon found him and appeared to be offering their quiet support. I was pleased to see also that the ellon who had been involved in the dagger juggling stunt came over to apologize and would have stayed with them had not Aerlinn made it plain that he was not welcome and that all her interest was with Gaearon.  
By the time we both thankfully retired to bed Gaearon was actually able to look forward to the last days work in the vineyard and the feast afterwards.

For myself I was just happy to get through the last day without having to sit down too often and was glad to hear that the feast would be held outdoors and would be completely informal with elves sitting ,or not, as they wished. After the meal there was to be dancing and singing and entertainments one of which I was asked to take part.

I demurred at first, for the memory of Gimli’s recent attempt to bring me to a sense of responsibility was still painfully present, but when I mentioned to Gimli that I had refused Orophin’s request to join him in a display of knife juggling he surprised me.

“Do it lad. I have it on good authority that ye are a master at such things, and I admit to looking forward to watching you perform.” He chuckled at my ridiculously stupefied expression, and explained further “It wasn’t so much the juggling, Lamb, but that you were dead drunk at the time and then you tried to hide it from me that caused me to be so cross with the pair of you. That and if you missed you could have lost a finger. These knives will have been blunted, else Lord Elrond would never allow it.

So I found myself doing something that I had vowed to myself I would never do again, within two days of making that vow. We began our display with throwing knives-blunted of course- but soon moved on to juggling. I invited Gaearon to join in and his skill was considerably better without so much wine in the mix. Why we hadn’t thought of using blunt knives before I do not know.

Mistress Elanor and Aerlinn also seemed to have enjoyed the evening: I made a point of dancing with both, as well as the ladies of New Imladris and I was happy to witness Gimli squiring Mistress Elanor on the floor later as well as Aerlinn and Gaearon sharing more than one dance together.

The evening ended with much laughter when Gimli admitted with a twinkle in his dark eyes that he had been considered quite proficient in the art of axe juggling in his youth, which made both Gaearon and I stare at him mum-chance.

“But,” he added “I only did so under supervision of course,” though I seriously doubt that was true, “and I never tried it with flaming torches as some folks did. I was too fond of my beard to put it at risk.”

“I should think so Lord Gimli,” Mistress Elanor told him admiringly. “Such a handsome thing as your beard is.” Then seeing us grinning at this flummery she added sternly that she had better not see either Gaearon or me trying anything so foolish as knife juggling again especially not with Glasiel’s kitchen blades, if we wished to see our next begetting day, which made us all laugh and which ended any lingering guilt over our earlier conduct.

So here we are about to depart New Imladris. All the formalities over and done with our farewells made, with promises from Lord Elrond that he will send over his chief vintner once the bottling is complete to discuss a new form of grape press that Gimli sketched out for him yesterday and which my dwarf insists will make the process more efficient! And I have enough notes on vine management to keep me busy all winter.

Our wagon is loaded and with a barrel of the new vintage to take home for those of our small staff who were unable to attend the harvest. Gaearon has volunteered to drive the horses so Gimli and I can ride together. It has been a good week after all, and we have all learned a few lessons one way or another.

As we pull out of the stable yard I begin to sing a song I learned while we were picking the grapes and soon we are all singing as we make our way towards Car Annûn and home.

 

 

 

 


End file.
